


What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

by VictoriaSinclair



Category: Classic Alice (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Family, Fluff, Holidays, New Year's Eve, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaSinclair/pseuds/VictoriaSinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prichards have an annual New Year's Eve gala. This year Andrew decides to bring a date. </p>
<p>Completely unrepentant fluffy holiday romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Here Comes the Jackpot Question in Advance

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year's Eve! This holiday story will appear a chapter at a time, each day from today to Epiphany (January 6th).
> 
> It is (trying to be) canon-compliant through when the characters left for Fakesgiving, but diverges from canon at that point (basically because that's when I started writing this). A few specific bits of things from later episodes are pulled in, but not the overall plot.
> 
> Thanks to josephinemarche, erinwert, katethebookworm, phantomrat, and Melissa for their help and encouragement, and machaswicket, hollye83, and lazulisong for listening to me whine about fic for a show they don't even watch. (THOUGH THEY SHOULD.)
> 
> Obviously these characters are not mine! They belong to Kate Hackett!
> 
> (There may be more specific notes on later chapters. Just FYI.)

**Prologue**

**Here Comes the Jackpot Question in Advance**

 

_Ah, but in case I stand one little chance,_   
_Here comes the jackpot question in advance:_   
_What are you doing New Year's Eve?_

 

 

"So, what are you up to over break?" The question sounded weirdly formal even as Andrew asked it, as though he didn't know the answer, as though he and Alice didn't know everything going on in each others' lives automatically.

She gave him a quizzical look. "You know. The usual. Family holiday stuff. Catching up on pleasure reading I didn't have time for over the semester."

Andrew nodded and looked around at the snowflakes floating around, the decorations in shop windows, anything that distracted him from staring at _her_. Finals were almost over and he'd insisted that Alice take a break from her last term paper, because she was getting to that point when she started texting him asking if things like "dialectic" and "post-structuralism" were real words, because she'd been looking at them so long she couldn't tell anymore.

Alice had agreed to take a break on the condition that Andrew took her into town to finish her Christmas shopping; he'd grumbled a bit, reflexively, but it had been the best afternoon he'd had in recent memory. Now they were pretty much done shopping; he was somehow carrying all the bags as they strolled along the quaint New England Main Street sipping peppermint lattes, with fluffy snowflakes landing on Alice's red hair and navy coat and, fine, making everything look pretty darn magical. It was straight out of one of those Hallmark movies Andrew pretended to hate but secretly kind of loved.

The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their idyllic afternoon, but if he didn't ask now, he might not have another chance before the semester ended.

"What are you doing New Year's Eve?" The words came out in a rush, and he hadn't really meant to say it that way, and wasn't that the name of a _song_? God.

"I don't know, reading? Probably watching Times Square on TV?" Alice shrugged and blinked a few snowflakes out of her eyes. "My family doesn't usually do much for New Year's."

"Well, my family has this big gala in Manhattan for all the New York-based clients - it's this annual thing."

"Yeah, I think you've mentioned . . ."

"So, I'm allowed to bring a date."

"Okay . . ."

Andrew took a deep breath. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Okay . . . oh. You were my fake date for Fakesgiving, so it's my turn to be your fake date for this party?"

Damn it. "Not exactly."

"What, then?"

"It's just . . . Why does everything always have to be fake?" Oops. He hadn't necessarily meant to say that out loud.

Alice frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"People take dates to events without constantly feeling the need to explain that it isn't a lifelong commitment. This is a regular thing people do." He tried to quell the frustration he was sure she could hear in his voice. "I'm asking you to be my date to the gala. No pretending. Not my fake date. Just . . . my date."

Alice was quiet, staring determinedly into the middle distance, and for a terrible moment Andrew was sure that this was it, that she was gone. Then she looked at him and smiled.

"Sure. Sounds like fun. It's a date."

 


	2. Chapter One: Make My Wish Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the Rackhams! Reagan has . . . opinions.

**Chapter One**

**Make My Wish Come True**

 

_I just want you for my own,_   
_More than you could ever know._   
_Make my wish come true;_   
_All I want for Christmas is you._

 

"So how's Hot Andrew?" Reagan asked as she and Alice set the table for Christmas dinner, safely out of earshot of any and all parents.

Alice made a face. "Can we _not_ call him that?"

"Well, he _is_ ," Reagan insisted.

As if on cue, Alice's phone dinged. She put down the stack of plates and fished it out of her pocket. Yep, Andrew. _Merry Christmas. How many dozen books did you get?_ Alice couldn't help but giggle. _Barely over ONE dozen. Shut up. Merry Christmas._

When she looked back up, Reagan had an eyebrow raised. "That him?"

"Yeah." Alice felt herself blushing. Ridiculous. Andrew was her friend, that's all. Why shouldn't they text?

"And how is he surviving three weeks of Christmas break without you?"

"It's not like - we're not - " Oh, what the heck. She'd find out somehow anyway. "He's not, actually. I mean, I'm going to visit. For his parents' New Year's Eve party."

"Wait, the Prichard and Associates gala? _That_ New Year's Eve party? The one with celebrities? And paparazzi?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What are you _wearing_?" Reagan screeched.

"Um, I don't know. I have to figure that out. Maybe we can go through my closet after dinner?" Alice wasn't sure Reagan was really the right person to help pick out clothes for a fancy event, but, well, right now her options were limited.

Just then Alice's mother popped her head into the dining room. "Almost done in there, girls? Food will be ready in five minutes."

 

Alice's phone dinged again in the middle of dinner. _Hey, you're going to stay for a few days, right? Drag me to some touristy things?_

"Stop smiling at your phone and put it away. You're at the dinner table."

Alice looked up at her father and blushed. Had she really been smiling at her phone? "Sorry. Andrew was just checking in about my trip."

"Well, tell him you'll talk to him _after Christmas dinner_."

Alice nodded. _Sure. Dinner now. Talk later._

"Speaking of this trip - " Reagan jumped in, "Aunt Susan, Alice needs a new dress."

"What?" Alice's mother asked.

" _What_?" Alice echoed.

"This is the Prichard and Associates gala. Richard Castle was there last year. You're telling me you have a dress in your closet that's appropriate for partying with famous authors?"

"It _is_?" Alice's mom said.

Reagan nodded.

Alice's mother turned to Alice. "You told me you were going to your friend's family New Year's Eve party. You didn't tell me it was the Prichard gala."

Alice shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't realize you'd all . . . know of it."

"I read the newspaper. So . . . they let their kids bring friends to this party? With all the fancy clients?"

Alice shrugged again. "I guess."

"No," Reagan interjected. "They let their kids bring _dates_ to this party."

"It's not - " Alice started to protest automatically, but then Andrew's words echoed in her mind. _No pretending. Not my fake date._ "Well, yeah. I'm going as his date."

"So she obviously needs a new dress," Reagan said again. "This may be the only time Alice ever parties with celebrities, Aunt Susan. There will be photographers. She needs a new dress."

Alice's mom smiled. "One last Christmas present. We'll go dress shopping tomorrow."

 

Dinner was over, and the women had retired to the living room while the guys did the dishes. Alice and Reagan curled up on the sofa by the tree and half-listened to their mothers discussing the current extended family drama. Alice's phone dinged again. _Dinner over yet? I'm bored._

Alice smiled. Poor little rich boy. _Yeah. And yes, I can stay a few days._

_Good. We can spend a day in the city. I want to take you to the NYPL._

_Oh, library footage for the project? Okay._

_No! No. No filming. I just want to take you there because you'll love it._ Huh. Andrew, not filming? Was he feeling okay?

When Alice looked up, Reagan was smiling at her knowingly. "Andrew again?"

"Yeah." Alice felt herself blushing again. Why was she blushing? What was wrong with her?

At Andrew's name, Alice's mother looked over. "So, you and the Prichard boy. Is this serious?"

"No! What? No! We're not - I'm just his date for the party. We're friends. Good friends."

"Okay, that's it. We need to have a conversation. In private." Reagan grabbed Alice's arm and dragged her down the hall to her bedroom.

"What's with _you_?" Alice asked as Reagan slammed the door behind them.

"If you're just lying to your parents, fine, I get it. I mean, I don't really get why you'd lie to them about _this_ \- my mom would be _thrilled_ if I dated a fancy rich guy - but I get lying to parents. But I'm starting to think you're _not_ lying."

"I'm not. Lying about what?" Alice was lost.

"You and Andrew."

"I'm not! I mean, yes, I'm his date for the party, but I don't know if he's actually interested . . ."

"You are _such_ an idiot," Reagan announced as she dramatically collapsed onto Alice's bed.

"I am not!"

"Not about school, but you apparently have no idea what's going on in your own life."

"Andrew and I are friends, but he's filming me for his thesis. He _has_ to spend time with me."

"Alice. Seriously."

" _What_?"

Reagan rolled her eyes. "I'm not the most academic person, but even I know that he must have plenty of footage by now. And that's entirely beside the point. He's obviously crazy about you."

"He is?"

"Wait. Do you like _him_?"

"I don't know - " Alice sighed. Lying about this - to herself, to everyone else - was just getting exhausting. "Fine. Yes. I like him."

"So what's the problem?"

"What?"

"You like him. He likes you. You're both single. You spend all your time together already. Why aren't you sleeping with him yet?"

Alice blushed. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to mess up our friendship. And . . . I don't know, what if he doesn't really like me? What if it's really just about his thesis?"

"Alice. Come on." Reagan paused. "I kissed him, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. That image is emblazoned in my memory forever. Thank you for that." Alice threw a pillow at her cousin.

"Well, if it's emblazoned in your memory, you should also remember how he reacted."

Alice frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Alice, the boy almost fell over backwards trying to get away from me. Trust me. I've kissed a lot of guys. That is not how they usually react. That is not how they _ever_ react."

"Oh."

"I'd be offended except that his reaction was clearly not at all about me and entirely about the fact that he's _in love with my cousin_."

" _Oh_. Are you serious? He's . . . really? You think?" That was . . . more than Alice had expected.

"I think anyone with eyes who has spent five minutes with you guys would tell you that, yes. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Do we need someone to phrase this in the form of a book for you?"

"Shut up. I just . . . I don't know."

"Well, you've already got this trip planned. Just try to keep an open mind, okay?"

"Okay. Wait, why do _you_ care so much?"

"You're my cousin! I want you to be happy!" Reagan looked mildly offended. "And besides, _someone_ should be sleeping with him. This is a _crime against hotness_."

 

What was really a crime, Alice thought later that night, was the fact that she was having trouble concentrating on her new Christmas books because she couldn't stop thinking about what Reagan had said. On the one hand, it was . . . Reagan. On the other hand, Reagan _did_ know a lot more about boys and dating than she did. And Andrew had been awfully insistent about it not being a fake date. And . . . kissing on New Year's Eve was a thing, right? Alice was pretty sure it was a thing. So maybe . . .

So. Fine. She'd keep an open mind. But first, what she really needed was a dress. An appropriate dress. Hmm. Andrew _had_ attended this party for years . . .

_What are you wearing?_

_...pajama pants and a sweatshirt?_ Alice smiled, then tried to push the image of Andrew in his pajamas out of her head.

_TO THE PARTY, you idiot._

_Oh. My tux. It's black tie. Not a lot of options for guys._

_Just checking. Going dress shopping tomorrow._

_You don't need to get a new dress._

_I really do. I don't have a lot of evening gowns lying around._

_Sorry. I didn't think about that. This wasn't supposed to be expensive for you._ Of course he hadn't thought about it. He probably hadn't ever thought about the cost of anything in his life.

_It's okay. Reagan told Mom this may be my only chance to party with hot celebrities, so Mom's getting me a dress as an extra Christmas present._

_So that's why you're coming? The hot celebrities?_

_No._ If he could say it wasn't a fake date, she could at least give him that much.

_Okay..._

_So. Long dress, I assume? Standard formal stuff? Wait, never mind, I can look at pictures from last year online. Why am I asking YOU for dress advice?_

_Green._ Green?

_What??_

_Just a suggestion. Since you asked. Green is a good color for you._

_Oh. You mean it works well on camera?_

_It does, but I just meant it looks really good on you. Not like I'm going to be filming at the party._

_Oh. Okay._

_What?_

_You keep talking about NOT filming. Do you have a fever?_

_Very funny._

_Seriously._

_Not filming this trip. Just want to spend time with you. Seriously._

_Oh. Well. I should get some sleep. Rest up for the shopping and all. Good night, Andrew._

_Good night, Alice._

Just Alice heard a soft knock at her door. She dropped her phone as though she'd been doing something illicit. "Come in?"

Reagan slipped into the room and sat on the foot of Alice's bed.

"Here," she said, holding out a small package wrapped in creased paper, clearly reused. "One more present. Away from the parents."

"Huh?" Alice was totally confused by her cousin yet again.

"Just open it."

Alice unwrapped the package, trying not to crinkle the paper too much in the silent house, and found . . . condoms.

" _What_? I don't need . . ."

"You might," Reagan said.

"Reagan."

"Did you not say you would keep an open mind this trip? Can it hurt to be _prepared_? You love planning things."

Alice didn't even want to dignify that with a reply. "Why did you even . . . did you get these _for_ me?"

"No, of course not," Reagan laughed. "I always travel with condoms. And now you can too!"

Alice sighed.

"Just promise me you'll pack them. You don't have to use them. He won't _magically know_ they're in your suitcase."

"If I promise to pack them, will you go away and let me sleep?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Fine. I will bring the condoms to New York. Are you happy now?"

"Yep!" Reagan jumped off the bed. "Now get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. We're going to find a dress he'll want to rip off you."

"Get out of my room."

"Look at you, you're blushing!" Reagan was clearly way too delighted.

"Out!"

 


	3. Chapter Two: Dancing in a Snow Globe Round and Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the gala!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of a cameo by everyone's favorite New York author/detective/Poe fan. (And a tiny West Wing shoutout, if you're looking closely.)

**Chapter Two**

**Dancing in a Snow Globe Round and Round**

 

_So it goes_   
_You two are dancing in a snow globe round and round_   
_He keeps a picture of you in his office downtown_   
_And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars_   
_And why I spent my whole life trying to put it into words..._

 

Alice spotted Andrew's tall curly head amid the crowds of holiday travelers as she stepped into the concourse at Grand Central. He saw her at almost the same time - she was short, but she supposed the red hair helped - and hurried over.

"Hey! You made it!" He started forward to hug her, then stopped, noticing that she was carrying a dress bag along with her backpack and overnight bag. "Here, let me - "

She swung the overnight bag toward him, and he took it with a small "Oof."

"Sorry. Heavy."

"Books," he said. "For the train. I figured."

"Sorry," she said again, feeling a little awkward now that she was actually _there_ , in New York, with Andrew.

He smiled and gave her a quick one-armed hug, careful not to touch the dress bag. "No, seriously. I'd expect no less."

"Okay." Alice bit her lip nervously. "Shall we . . ."

"Yeah. It's only a few blocks to the hotel. Do you want to walk?"

"Sure. You're carrying the heavy stuff." The gala was always held at a hotel near Times Square, Andrew had explained, so that the clients could feel like they were part of a cultural moment without actually mingling with _hoi polloi_. There had been a lot of eye-rolling involved in that explanation.

Andrew started toward the door, then turned and smiled at her. "I'm glad you're here. This party will be way more bearable this year."

 

The next few hours passed in a blur of party preparations and slightly awkward introductions. Andrew's mother had a party planner and a full staff doing any number of things - including whisking away Alice's dress to be steamed the moment she arrived - but the matriarch of the family somehow still had a million things to do. She paused for a brief introduction - "Alice! So glad to finally meet you! We've heard so much about you!" - before pulling both Andrew and Alice into the flurry of pre-party activity.

And then suddenly it was an hour before the party and Alice found herself being shown into a bedroom in the suite Mrs. Prichard was using on the floor above the ballroom.

"Your bag is here and your dress is hanging in the closet," the hotel clerk said. "Is there anything else we can get for you, Miss Rackham?"

"Uh, no, thanks."

The clerk left her alone, and Alice looked around the room for a moment. She'd been too busy to think much while she was helping Mrs. Prichard, but now she was getting nervous. Would the dress be okay? Would it fit in with the fancy guests? Would Andrew _like_ it? Why was she worrying about this? Reagan had gotten into her head. Andrew saw her in t-shirts and jeans and pajamas all the time. He knew what she looked like. He wasn't going to like her or not based on a _dress._

She dressed slowly, carefully, did her makeup and hair, then twirled in front of the mirror. It was a gorgeous dress: emerald green, with delicate embroidery following the V of the bodice and a long full skirt. Andrew was right, she decided. This was a good color for her.

Alice glanced at the tiny gold watch she'd borrowed from her mother and - okay. Still forty minutes until the party. She could sit and read for ten minutes to calm her nerves.

Eight minutes later, someone knocked on the door. "Just me," Andrew called. "No hurry, just wanted to let you know I'm out here when you're ready."

Well, it would be too obvious to go out immediately. "Okay, just a minute!" Alice called back.

She carefully read one more page and put her book back in her bag. When she entered the suite's living room, Andrew was standing by a mirror, fussing with his bowtie.

"Hi," Alice said, suddenly unsure again.

"Hey." He glanced over, and then turned toward her and stared. "You look amazing."

"Thanks." She gestured vaguely at his tux and took a few steps toward him. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

"Just one thing . . ." Andrew picked up a small wrapped gift from the coffee table and crossed the room to her. "How attached are you to the idea of wearing that necklace tonight?"

Alice put a hand to her neck. Right. Her mother's pearls. "Uh, not particularly, I guess. Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, no, I just - " He handed her the package. "Happy birthday."

"Oh. I mean, thanks. Your Christmas present is in my suitcase . . ."

Andrew shook his head and smiled. "No, no, birthday first, then Christmas two days later, like it's supposed to be."

"Okay, crazy person. Should I open this?"

He nodded.

Alice carefully removed the paper, trying not to chip her nails - it was birthday paper, she noticed, not Christmas - and found a flat blue jewelry box. She looked up at him. "This . . ."

"You _can't_ say . . . whatever you were going to say. You don't even know what it is."

"Okay." She opened the box, hoping he couldn't see that her hands were shaking. Nestled inside was a delicate white gold chain holding a pendant - a pendant, she saw as she picked it up, that was shaped like a book, with her monogram engraved on it in lacy script. " _Oh_ ," she breathed. "It's beautiful."

"You like it?" he asked, looking like a hopeful puppy.

"I _love_ it."

"You don't have to wear it tonight, if you don't like it with that dress or whatever, I just wanted you to have the option - "

"I am absolutely going to wear it tonight," Alice said firmly.

"Good."

Alice was starting to put the necklace back in the box so her hands were free to remove the pearls when Andrew took it from her. "May I?" he asked.

"Oh. Yes. Sure. Let me just put these away." Alice quickly unclasped the pearls and ran to the bedroom to stow them safely in her suitcase, then returned to the living room and stood in front of the mirror.

Andrew carefully lifted her hair out of the way, then draped the necklace around her neck and fastened it with surprising ease. She'd half-expected him to fumble with it and need her to do it herself after all.

She met his eyes in the mirror. "Well done."

"Years of helping Mom get ready," he explained as he let his hands rest on her shoulders for just a moment. Alice leaned back against him and felt his breath just barely ruffle her hair. She kept her eyes on his in the mirror; their faces were so close that if she just turned her head -

"Seriously, you look beautiful," he said. "And Mom is probably wondering where we are."

"Okay." She turned to look at him. "Wait, your bowtie is crooked." She straightened it for him, then rested her hands on his lapels for a moment as she examined her work. "Okay. Now you're presentable."

Andrew nodded. "Ready?"

"I guess so."

He offered her his arm. "Milady?"

 

"I just talked to Richard Castle."

"You did." Andrew grinned at her. They'd been dutifully circulating among the guests for an hour, but after _Richard Castle,_ Alice figured they could be excused for a moment and told Andrew she wanted a drink, mostly to give herself a break to process everything. She wondered if Andrew realized how naturally he slipped into the role his family expected of him, making small talk with the clients, remembering a surprising number of names, playing the host effortlessly. She wondered if his parents noticed it. She wondered just how bad it was that this unexpected side of him only made her like him more.

Now he stood in front of her with two glasses of champagne, beaming, because in a party full of businessmen and socialites, he had found her a bestselling author with whom she could discuss Poe.

"You introduced me as _a writer_ ," Alice said as she took her glass and sipped.

"You are a writer."

"Still. It's not like I'm his _peer_." She'd been vaguely mortified. She'd also noticed how Andrew had introduced her to everyone as "Alice." Not "my friend Alice" or "my classmate Alice." Just "Alice," like her place in his life was important and obvious.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought his books were up to your standards."

"Well. They're not really my usual thing, but they're fun," Alice allowed. "And besides, I got to talk about Poe!"

"Anyway, regardless of the quality of his books, I'm told Richard Castle is the most attractive man here."

Alice laughed, and then . . . oh, what the heck. "No." She looked directly into Andrew's eyes. "He isn't."

"Um." Andrew just stared at her for a moment, then held out a hand. "Dance with me?"

"Of course." Alice let Andrew lead her onto the dance floor and - wow, he was good at this. "You seem to know what you're doing."

Andrew shrugged. "Ballroom dancing lessons."

"Ah. Well. I do _not_ know what I'm doing."

He pulled her close. Dangerously close, but she didn't know what she'd expected. He'd never had any sense of personal space. "I know you don't like ceding control," he said, "but just follow my lead. It'll be fine."

Alice nodded and tried to relax. And . . . it was mostly fine. She didn't think she was completely embarrassing herself, anyway. It was even sort of fun, when she concentrated on _not thinking_ and just following Andrew and the music. Every once in a while some white confetti drifted down from the ceiling, clearly intended to look like snow. It felt magical.

After a few minutes, Andrew leaned in even closer and whispered in her ear. "So, Alice Rackham, are you calling me attractive?"

Alice painted a shocked expression on her face. "Well, isn't _someone_ full of himself. Just because I say Castle isn't the most attractive man here, you assume . . ." She trailed off as she saw genuine hurt flash across his face before he could mask it.

"Sorry," he said. "Of course. I was joking. I didn't mean . . ."

"Andrew. Look at me. _Andrew_." He met her eyes reluctantly. Well. Now or never. "You are absolutely the most attractive man here." They were dancing so closely that she felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath; clearly she needed something to break the moment. "Though your brother Theo is pretty hot too."

"Theo's gay," Andrew said quickly. "And taken."

"Still hot," Alice observed. "It's just a factual observation."

"Uh-huh." Andrew was quiet for a moment as they danced. "Wait. Alice."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if you were serious just then or humoring me, but . . . you know that you're the most beautiful woman here, right?"

Alice felt herself blush. "I am not."

"You are." He looked her straight in the eyes and . . . wow. He actually believed that, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.

"It's the dress." She was trying to joke, but her voice came out weird and breathy and way too serious. "Green."

He spun her slowly, taking the opportunity to let her see him looking at her, letting his eyes linger all the places he usually tried desperately to ignore. "Not the dress," he said when he pulled her close again. "Just you."

 


	4. Chapter Three: You Are Near and Everything's Clear

**Chapter Three**

**You Are Near and Everything's Clear**

 

_I found what I was looking for_  
 _A love that's meant for me_  
 _A heart that's mine completely_  
 _Knocked me right off my feet_  
 _And this year I will fall with no worries at all_  
 _Cause you are near and everything's clear_

 

The hum of the party turned into something closer to a genteel roar as champagne was consumed and the clock ticked closer to midnight. Alice vaguely wondered if Andrew was suppose to be doing something other than dancing with her all night, but she decided she was enjoying this way too much to ask. She still wasn't entirely sure about the _dancing_ part, but the dance floor was crowded enough now that they weren't moving much; when it came down to it, she was basically just standing there in Andrew's arms, swaying a little and stealing glances at his face. He was always looking back at her.

Suddenly the band launched into a rousing cover of Elvis's "Kiss Me Quick" and Alice peeked at her watch. 11:56. Subtle. She giggled a little, and Andrew looked at her quizzically.

"The music. It's almost midnight," she said, and he cocked his head to listen. _Kiss me quick, I just can't stand this waiting . . . 'cause your lips are lips I long to know . . ._

"Ah." He chuckled, but his eyes were full of questions.

Alice shrugged, and just . . . decided. "Kissing at midnight is such a cliche," she said, and just barely had time to see the flash of disappointment register in his eyes before she was standing on her tiptoes pulling his face to hers and kissing him.

After a few moments Andrew pulled back and stared at her. "Is this . . . you know, a meaningless New Year's thing?"

"No. Of course not. It's 11:58."

And then _he_ was kissing her, far too thoroughly for a public place filled with his parents' clients, so thoroughly that for a moment Alice wondered if his mother would come yell at him, until she realized everyone was distracted by the big countdown to midnight the band leader was running with some kind of fancy light display. And then it was midnight and _everyone_ was kissing.

"Sorry. I made you miss the countdown," Alice said when she paused for breath.

"Mmm. Don't care." Andrew's hand splayed across her mostly-bare back, pulling her closer, and Alice suddenly forgave the back of her dress for the evening of occasional chills its lack of fabric had given her. She slid a hand under his jacket - turnabout was fair play, after all - and made a frustrated noise in her throat when she encountered his waistcoat. Jacket, waistcoat, shirt, undershirt . . . was this whole black tie situation _designed_ to cut off all access to a guy's skin?

"Hmmm?" Andrew asked against her mouth.

Alice pulled back a few inches, enough to talk, but not quite enough to focus on his face without crossing her eyes. "Can we go somewhere with fewer clothing requirements?"

 

" _What?_ " The room was loud, still ringing with 'Happy New Year,' and Andrew was sure he must have misheard. Or maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was having a stroke? In any case, Alice could _not_ have just suggested that they go somewhere requiring less clothing. That was not a thing that happened in Andrew's world, even in this amazing new world in which he was _kissing Alice_. Was it?

Alice smiled and shook her head, then grabbed his arm and led him through the crowd to a secluded alcove at the edge of the room. Okay. He had misheard. She just wanted to be kissing somewhere a little less public. Probably wise. He backed her against a column and started kissing her again, letting his hands rest on her hips. He was pretty sure kissing Alice was his new favorite hobby.

She tore her lips away from his mouth to whisper in his ear. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I don't . . . think so." No. Surely he hadn't.

Alice slid her hands under his jacket again and started playing with the hem of his waistcoat. "I asked if we had to stay here or if we might be able to go somewhere that didn't require you to wear quite so many layers of clothes."

"I . . . uh . . . yes? Sure? Like . . . where?" He still couldn't believe she was actually saying what it sounded like she was saying. Maybe she just wanted to go somewhere . . . casual. Like a diner.

Alice rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I hear that this building we're standing in is called a hotel, and they give you rooms? With beds? And locks on the door? In exchange for money?"

"I . . . yes. They do. You want . . ."

"My God, you'd think no one had ever tried to get you into bed before."

 _No one who matters._ Even as the words flitted across Andrew's mind, he knew they were unfair. It wasn't that his other girlfriends hadn't mattered. But not like Alice. " _You_ haven't."

Alice stilled, suddenly looking uncertain. "I mean. If you don't want . . ."

"Oh, I want." It came out almost as a growl, but the effect was immediately negated by the way he picked her up and spun her around a little as his mouth found hers again.

 

They escaped the party without attracting his mother's attention, which was a miracle - Andrew asked his brother's boyfriend Max to tell the parents not to expect him home that night. "You're telling me because I'll make less of an issue of it than any of your actual relatives, right?" Max had asked, laughing.

It wasn't until they were at the reception desk, Alice holding his hand tightly, that it occurred to Andrew that New Year's Eve was not the easiest time to get a hotel room in midtown Manhattan.

"I'm sorry," the clerk sniffed condescendingly. "I simply don't have a room to give you."

Andrew sighed. Time to pull out the big guns. "My mother will be sorry to hear that. I know she relies on you to keep a few rooms available for any of her guests who might need them."

The man paled. "Your mother . . ."

"Louisa Prichard." Andrew had never enunciated so clearly in his life. He heard Alice stifle a giggle.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Mr. Prichard. Let me check again." He made a show of typing and frowning at his screen. "All the regular rooms are taken, but I do have a suite I can offer you."

"Fine."

"That'll be - "

"I'm sure it's fine." Andrew cut the man off and handed over a credit card as quickly as possible. No need to make Alice feel self-conscious about whatever ridiculous rate they were going to charge him, and at this point he really _didn't_ care how much it cost. It still felt surreal. _Alice wanted him to get them a hotel room._

The clerk handed back Andrew's card. "Can we send anything up for you, sir? A bottle of champagne?"

Andrew glanced over at Alice, who suddenly looked a little nervous.

"Nah. How about . . . some hot cocoa?"

"Certainly, sir."

"And our bags. My mother had them checked this afternoon." Andrew fished the bag check tickets out of his pocket and handed them over.

"Of course." The clerk handed Andrew the room keys and then turned toward the bag check. "I'll have those brought up for you right away." The man was too well trained to betray his feelings with more than the slightest smirk, but Andrew figured their reasons for suddenly needing a room were all too obvious. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to care.

Finally the man handed over a room key. Alice almost skipped to the elevators, pulling Andrew by the hand. The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, she pushed him against the wall and molded her body to his.

"I can't believe I'm saying this . . ." She punctuated her words with kisses as she began to untie his bowtie. "But you throwing money around is . . . not unattractive."

"Noted."

"Just don't make a habit of it." She slowly unbuttoned his waistcoat. "I kind of miss the plaid."

 

And then they were in a hotel room, standing by a bed in their dress clothes, and everything was suddenly extremely awkward. Andrew ran a hand down Alice's bare arm.

"So now we . . . wait for cocoa. And luggage. Sorry, I didn't really think that through." Andrew slung his tuxedo jacket across a chair and carefully took off his cufflinks - monogrammed, a high school graduation gift - and set them with his bowtie on the dresser.

"It's fine." Alice bit her lip. "No hurry. I like cocoa."

"So that was the right answer on the champagne?"

Alice nodded. "Last minute hotel room . . . Champagne would probably just make me feel . . . cheap."

"I promise I would only buy you very expensive champagne."

Alice smiled faintly, but before Andrew could say anything actually reassuring, there was a call of "Room service!" from the hall. The porter with the luggage was right behind the waiter, thank goodness, but by the time Andrew tipped them both and closed the door behind them, Alice was looking even more worried. He took a moment to pour her a cup of cocoa, then crossed the room and handed it to her gently. She sipped.

"Hey." Andrew traced her lips with his thumb. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We don't have to do . . . anything."

"I'm the one who said I was trying to get you into bed."

"You're allowed to change your mind."

Alice shook her head. "I'm not changing my mind. I want this."

"So do I." All this standing around wasn't helping, so Andrew shrugged out of his waistcoat and sat down in the chair at the foot of the bed. He couldn't decide if he was surprised that Alice immediately put her cocoa down on the desk and sat in his lap, but he was _very_ happy to wrap his arms around her and hold on. "But it doesn't have to be tonight."

"It doesn't have to be," she agreed, half turning in his lap to run a hand through his hair. "But I really want it to be. Because I've been wanting you to touch me all night."

Andrew smiled slowly. "I am touching you," he murmured.

"You know what I mean." She was blushing. It was adorable. But . . . damn it.

"If we're really . . . I don't . . ."

"What?"

"Protection?"

"Oh. I'm on the pill," Alice said.

"I know." It slipped out before Andrew realized how creepy it sounded.

"You know?"

He shrugged. "You have an alarm for it on your phone. It's not that cryptic."

"Okay." She paused. "And I have condoms in my suitcase."

"You do?" Okay, _that_ was a surprise.

"Reagan gave them to me. Made me promise to pack them."

"Well." Andrew kissed her and then stood up slowly, gathering her up in his arms. "Remind me to send your cousin a thank you note, then."

"Just as long as you don't _kiss_ her again."

"Hey!" Andrew set Alice down on the edge of the bed, then quickly took off his shoes. " _She_ kissed _me_."

"Well. Whatever. No more of that." Alice let her shoes drop to the floor, then unbuttoned Andrew's shirt. He obligingly let it fall next to his shoes and tried not to gasp as she traced a line down his torso, only the thin undershirt between her hands and his skin. "Mine," she proclaimed, and tugged him onto the bed beside her.

"Yours," he agreed, then laughed a little as he felt her untuck his t-shirt from the suit pants and slide her hands up his stomach. Alice was undressing him. _Alice._ Was _undressing_ him. "No rush. We can go slow."

"We can go slow _ly_ later," Alice said as she pulled his undershirt over his head, then froze. "Oh my God. I just literally corrected your grammar _in bed_."

Andrew chuckled and tossed the shirt aside. "I'd expect nothing less."

"Seriously, that was obnoxious. I'm sorry. I can't believe I did that."

"It's like you've never _met_ you." Andrew kissed her forehead, her lips, her collarbone. "Seriously. It's fine."

"Anyone else would be looking for an escape route right now."

"Mmm." He gently tugged her dress down her body and followed it with his mouth, then looked up at her and grinned. "Guess you're stuck with me, then."

 


	5. Chapter Four: Start the New Year Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after . . . and New Year's day with the Prichards.

**Chapter Five**

**Start the New Year Right**

 

_Let's watch the old year die_  
 _With a fond good-bye_  
 _And our hopes as high as a kite._  
 _How can our love go wrong if_  
 _We start the new year right?_

When Alice awoke to light streaming in through the shades, it took her a minute to figure out where she was. A hotel? She was a little cold, probably because she was naked - what? Why? - and she instinctively snuggled closer to Andrew. Wait. Andrew? It suddenly all came crashing back, and she was wide awake. It was New Year's Day, and she was in bed with Andrew. She rolled away and sat up.

Andrew opened his eyes. "Alice?"

"Hi."

"Good morning." He rolled toward her and half sat up to give her a sleepy kiss. "C'mere," he said as he pulled her back into his arms. "Don't have to get up quite yet."

"Okay." What? He still seemed to be half-asleep, but he was obviously aware of where they were and who she was, and he was just . . . cuddling and kissing her like this wasn't a _huge giant change_. But as much as she tried to relax and cuddle like a normal person, she felt stiff, paralyzed. What was he _thinking_? Was he acting so unconcerned because this didn't really mean anything to him, or because it did?

And of course he could tell, and suddenly he was awake too. "You're completely freaking out. Why are you freaking out?"

"I'm freaked out by how un-freaked out  you are. Why are you acting like this is . . . normal?"

"Because I want it to be." Andrew reached a hand toward her hair, then hesitated.

Alice smiled. "You're allowed to touch my hair."

"'kay," he said softly as he stroked her head. "I know you don't like it when people play with your hair without permission."

"Well. There are a lot of things most people aren't allowed to touch."

"Oh yeah?" Andrew let his hand trail from the ends of her hair down her side. "I feel so special."

"You should." Alice shivered as Andrew began to trace abstract patterns on her hip.

"Cold?" he asked, face full of concern.

Alice grabbed his shoulder and pulled until he'd rolled mostly on top of her. "Nope."

Andrew propped himself up on his elbows. "You're so tiny. I don't want to crush you."

Alice smirked up at him. "You didn't seem very concerned about that last night."

" _Did I hurt you_?"

It was all Alice could do not to laugh at him, but he seemed so genuinely horrified that she made the effort. "No. I'm joking. I swear I'm not that breakable."

"Okay." He didn't look entirely convinced.

Alice took a deep breath and made herself ask the question. "So . . . what now?"

"Well, much as I'd like to stay right here for the indefinite future, we have brunch with my siblings in a few hours." He trailed kisses down her neck, but as tempted as Alice was to just let herself get lost in him again, she had to know what he was thinking.

"No, I mean . . . okay, but I meant more generally."

"What?" Andrew rolled onto his back and pulled Alice with him, settling her against his chest. "Sorry. You sound serious. I'm listening."

"What are we . . . doing? Was this one night or are we friends with benefits or something or are we _together_ or - You said . . . you said you wanted this to be normal. I'm not sure what that means." It all came out in a rush.

Andrew looked completely bewildered. "How could you possibly think - Okay. Yes. Clearly I need to use my words with you. I shouldn't be surprised by that." He shifted so he could look into her eyes. "I want waking up and starting my day with you to be normal. I want kissing you while I'm still mostly asleep to be normal. I want reluctantly attending family events with you to be normal. I want this magical new world where I'm allowed to touch you to be normal. You have to know you were already the most important person in my life. I want . . . this. You. Us. All of it."

Alice just stared at him for a moment. Well. "So that's a yes on the 'together' thing."

He laughed. "You haven't said if that's what _you_ want," he pointed out.

"Yes." Alice kissed him, hard. "Yes."

 

A few hours later, Andrew got out of the shower - showering together had been discussed, but he really hadn't thought he'd be able to keep from getting entirely distracted, and now they were really on a schedule - and returned to the bedroom to a sight that took his breath away. He'd left Alice snuggled in the rumpled sheets, and she was still there, but now she was reading a book - and wearing his dress shirt. _This,_ he found himself thinking. _This_ is what I want.

She was so entranced in her book that she didn't notice when he crossed the room and tossed his towel onto the bed, didn't even look up until he crawled into bed next to her and slung an arm low across her abdomen.

And then she slammed the book closed. "Sorry! I was just . . ."

Andrew laughed. "You were reading. I expected you to be reading. It's fine." He leaned in and kissed her. "You're allowed to both read and have a boyfriend. Though that doesn't mean I might not try to distract you occasionally."

"Noted." She looked at him and blinked. "You're naked."

"Generally helpful for showering." He touched her - his - sleeve. "You're not."

"I was cold," Alice said quickly. "Your shirt was . . . there. Hope that was okay."

"Mmm," he said as he traced the edge of his shirt along her bare skin. "More than okay."

 

Brunch with Andrew's brothers and their significant others had been . . . surprisingly fun. Alice had met everyone briefly the night before, but now, away from their parents, with giant stacks of pancakes in front of them, the Prichards were surprisingly easygoing with each other.

Of course, that meant Andrew was thoroughly teased by his big brothers. "Ah," Theo said with a raised eyebrow as they walked into the restaurant and took off their coats. "You were wearing that sweater yesterday, Andrew. Your turn for the New Year's walk of shame, I see."

Alice was sure she was beet red, but Andrew just smiled. "I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of." He slid into the booth and pulled Alice so close that she was almost in his lap. "Allow me to reintroduce you all to _my girlfriend,_ Alice Rackham."

The annual Prichard brother New Year's brunch was usually a strategy session to prepare for the annual Prichard family New Year's dinner, and the fact that everyone had big news to tell the parents at least distracted the focus from Andrew "finally showing up with the mythical Alice," as Theo put it. The eldest Prichard, Will, was a junior partner at Prichard and Associates, and he and his wife Jules were ready to announce their first pregnancy. And Theo and Max, both third year law students at Columbia, had finally made their engagement official.

"Yeah, but everyone expects our news," Will had insisted. "Andrew finally bringing a girl home is the real shocker."

It wasn't until Alice and Andrew were curled up on the couch in his parents' library before dinner - "Your parents have a _library_ , Andrew, of course that's where I want to sit" - that she had a chance to ask him about Will's comment.

"What did he mean, _finally_?"

"I don't know. I guess they think it's weird that it's taken this long?" Andrew paused. "And I may talk about you a lot."

"Wait. You've _never_ brought girls home before?"

Andrew shrugged. "No one ever seemed . . . serious enough."

"And I am? Already?"

A slow smile spread across Andrew's face. "Alice Rackham, you've never been unserious about anything in your life."

 

"Andrew, can you come reach something for me?" Jules called.

Andrew extracted himself from the couch and headed for the kitchen.

"What do you need?" He frowned, looking around. It didn't _look_ like Jules was in the middle of anything that required items from top shelves.

"Nothing. I just needed an excuse to talk to you alone."

Andrew raised his eyebrows.

"Your mother has a question about the sleeping arrangements."

"Of course she does."

"No, seriously," Jules insisted. "It's a reasonable question. You told her to have a guest room made up for Alice, but we're all assuming you didn't stay out all night because you were sleeping separately."

"Well. Fine," Andrew grumbled.

"And I'm pretty sure you haven't gone three minutes without kissing her all day. It's kind of gross."

"Says the girl my brother knocked up."

" _Speaking of which_. Do we need to have a conversation about where babies come from?"

" _Absolutely not_."

"Well, then." Jules looked at him pointedly.

"I assume she'll stay with me, but I'd better check."

"Yes. Do that."

Andrew returned to the library and nudged Alice's shoulder. "Hey. Question."

She looked up from her book.

"Originally I'd told my mom you'd be staying in a guest room, obviously, since we weren't together, but . . ."

Alice frowned. "Oh. Wait, why was _Jules_ involved in this conversation?"

"Presumably so my mother wouldn't have to allude to the existence of sex in my presence."

"And yet she'd be okay with me sleeping in your room?"

Andrew shrugged. "As long as we don't make her talk about it. And really, at dinner she's going to be confronted with irrefutable evidence of Will's sex life, so I don't think she'll be too worried about us."

"Okay then." Alice tilted her head. "I mean, do you want me to stay with you?"

 _Obviously. Always._ "Absolutely," he managed. "I mean, it would be weird to do anything in my parents' house, but . . . I just want you there."

 

Prichard family dinner was definitely more stressful than Prichard sibling brunch, and Alice's hopes of being lost in the shuffle of everyone else's news were dashed in the middle of a conversation about whether Theo and/or Max would be changing their names when they married. Andrew's mother suddenly looked at Alice.

"And how about you, Alice?"

"I - I'm sorry?"

"Are you planning to take your husband's name when you get married?"

" _Mom_ \- " Andrew broke in.

Alice shook her head at him. This was clearly some sort of test, and she had to handle it herself. She wasn't sure of the right answer, but she figured the _manner_ of her answer would set the tone for her interactions with Andrew's parents. So - fine. She could play this game.

She took a deep breath. "I don't know, Mrs. Prichard," she said sweetly. "It might depend on how much I liked my husband's family."

Mrs. Prichard stared at her for a long moment, and then - smiled. Whew. Alice started breathing again. Next to her, Andrew's shoulders were shaking with laughter; on the other side, Theo stood and made a show of shaking her hand. "Well done, Alice Rackham."

But by far the weirdest thing was the way everyone was talking as though Alice was . . . permanent. Theo and Max were clearly assuming Alice would be Andrew's date to their wedding, even though it wouldn't be held for at least a year. And Jules's pregnancy obviously took up a lot of the conversation, but Alice had not expected Andrew's sister-in-law to immediately start referring to "Uncle Andrew and Aunt Alice."

Alice wasn't sure she should open this particular can of worms - but then, the way Andrew himself was talking, it didn't seem like he'd be easy to scare off. And if he was alarmed by the way his family was talking, maybe it would help to mention that she found it weird too. So later that night, when they were tucked into bed in his childhood bedroom, she nestled against his shoulder. "Hey . . ."

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"So . . . we haven't even been together for 24 hours and I'm already Aunt Alice?"

"Oh. I'm sure they didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," Alice answered quickly. "Just . . . curious. Nothing you've ever said about your family made me expect them to be the 'we just met you but you're one of us now' type."

"They aren't, usually."

"So I'm . . . special?"

He kissed her forehead. "You're very special."

"Andrew."

"You want the honest answer?"

"Of course."

"I don't want to freak you out."

"Well, now I'm terrified." Alice couldn't decide if it was good or bad that she couldn't really see his face in the dark. She grabbed his hands to reassure herself, and he held on tight.

"It's nothing _bad_ ," he clarified. "It's just . . . well, two things. First, like we talked about, I've never brought anyone home before. You're here, and therefore they assume I'm . . . committed."

"Even though you had a different girlfriend a few months ago?" Alice regretted the words as they were coming out of her mouth, regretted bringing up Heather, but . . . well, better to just say it than to worry.

Andrew was silent for a moment. "This sounds terrible, but I'm not sure I ever mentioned her. Never seemed like a big enough deal, I guess."

"And yet they seem to know all about me."

Alice felt Andrew shrug, and then his lips found hers in the darkness. "You've always been a big deal to me."

She kissed him for a moment, then pulled away. "Wait. What was the second reason?"

"What?"

"You said there were two reasons . . ."

"Oh. Yeah. Well. My mom likes you. I think she's . . . relieved."

"Relieved?"

"You know, I'm her crazy rebellious youngest kid. I think she's been worried about what kind of girl I'd bring home. Someone too . . . well, she'd probably say _edgy_ . . . to put up with the Prichard dog and pony show when required."

"I can be edgy! I had a belly button ring!"

" _For a day_ ," he laughed.

"This is terrible." Alice rolled over onto her stomach and dramatically buried her face in a pillow.

"What? No. What?" Andrew rolled onto his side and pulled her up against him so he was spooning her. "What's terrible?"

"I'm so prim and dull that your mother _likes_ me. You're going to be bored of me in a week," Alice moaned.

He shook with laughter. "Never."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I. I could never get bored of you. Alice. You're . . . you're my favorite person."

Alice grinned and twisted her head up to kiss him. "You're my favorite person too."

"Well, now that we've settled _that_ . . ." Andrew's hand crept up from its resting place on Alice's hip to gently cup her breast. He moved so very slowly, she assumed to give her plenty of chances to pull away, to move his hand. She didn't.

Alice resisted the urge to just roll onto him and pin him to the bed and instead gave an innocent smile. "I thought you couldn't possibly touch me in your parents' house because it would just be too weird?"

Andrew's fingers began to trace featherlight circles across her chest, and Alice thought she might _die_ if he didn't kiss her immediately.

"That was before you were all soft and warm and . . . here," he murmured. "You're _here_."

Alice tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face toward hers. "Right here."

 


	6. Chapter Five: As We Dream by the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magical date day in NYC!

**Chapter Five**

**As We Dream by the Fire**

 

_Later on, we'll conspire,_   
_As we dream by the fire_   
_To face unafraid,_   
_The plans that we've made,_   
_Walking in a winter wonderland._

 

"You're saying my idiot baby brother did _what_?"

Alice nodded solemnly. "Most romantic day of my life. I swear."

"Well." Andrew hurried to temper expectations. "She may have a weird definition of romantic. There were a lot of books involved."

It was the evening of January 2nd, and the Prichard siblings were sprawled across deep couches and plush carpets around the giant fireplace in a room Alice _thought_ she'd heard someone call the playroom - a holdover from when the boys were young, she supposed, since there certainly weren't any toys there now and the furnishings did not exactly look child-friendly. She wondered if changes would be made once Jules's baby was born. Visits to grandparents were supposed to be fun, right?

Alice had claimed one end of the sofa nearest the fire, and Andrew lay across it, his feet dangling off one end and his head in Alice's lap. She stroked his curls soothingly. "Books are very romantic." He twined an arm up around her neck and she bent to kiss him. It still seemed like some amazing magic that she could just . . . do that now.

" _Now_?" Andrew had laughed when she'd said something similar that morning as they'd wandered Central Park hand in hand and kissed in the snow until Alice's cheeks went numb. "You could have done that _years ago_." Alice wasn't sure whether to believe him, but it didn't really matter: _now_ was enough, more than enough, to process. He was _him_ , and they were _them_ , and yet everything was entirely different. It made Alice dizzy if she let herself stop and think about it.

"So." Max's voice broke into her thoughts. "I'm going to open another bottle of wine and then you're going to tell us exactly what Mr. Romance here planned for you today."

Andrew sat up to hand over their glasses and Alice made an involuntary squeak of protest. He settled back among the cushions and pulled her tight against him. "Sorry," he murmured. "Didn't want to spill my wine on you."

"I _suppose_ that's an acceptable excuse," she teased.

"You do, do you?"

"Uh-huh." Their mouths drew closer with each word until Andrew swallowed her agreement with a laugh.

"Ahem. Children. More talking, less making out," Theo said as Max returned with the wine. "We old boring people must live vicariously somehow."

Andrew rolled his eyes at his brother. "You got engaged _a week ago_. You're not allowed to complain about being old and boring yet."

"But I am," Jules said from the opposite couch. "I've been alternating between napping and throwing up all day. Let me hear about _someone_ having fun."

Alice smiled at her sympathetically. "Yeah, that does not sound like a fun day."

"Louisa said she had terrible morning sickness with all three boys. Apparently Prichard babies are difficult from the very start." Jules smiled wanly. "It's clearly too late for me, but maybe you should run while you still can."

"Jules," Andrew said sharply.

Alice patted his leg and tried futilely not to blush. "It's fine. So! Our day. We got up early to go into the city, and I was annoyed because he wouldn't tell me why we had to leave so early."

"Yeah, I was wondering why you got up so early," Will said. "You know, since bed seems to be a place you enjoy this week. In general."

Andrew hit him with a throw pillow. "We got up early because of my _brilliant plan_. Which _worked perfectly_."

"It did," Alice agreed.

"I figured if we got to the Met right when it opened and went straight to the Christmas tree, we could get a good look at the creche before it was packed."

"And we did! It was amazing!" After the tree, Alice had insisted they see at least a few of the galleries while they were there, but Andrew had persuaded her to leave after a few hours. "We're not going to see the entire Metropolitan Museum in a day," he'd tried to reason. "And we have other plans today. But we've got a museum membership. I'll take you back here as many times as you want, I swear."

She'd reluctantly acceded, and after lunch - really good pizza, he'd insisted, she had to have really good pizza while she was in New York - he'd taken her to the New York Public Library as promised. In addition to it being a _giant library_ , there were exhibitions on both Emily Dickinson _and Sesame Street_. Alice was pretty sure this was heaven.

In the end, Andrew _had_ filmed her outside the library, just as she knew he would. "Come on. I'm frolicking adorably with book-related lion statues. They're wearing _Santa hats_. You will never convince me you don't want to film this." He'd demurred - "Today's just about us" - but she'd finally convinced him that he could film her just for himself without it being for the project, and that he wasn't _him_ without a camera in his hand.

"I can think of a lot of things I could film just for myself," he'd joked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Uh-huh." Alice rolled her eyes at him. "Come on. There are books to be seen."

When they were finally done at the library they'd headed to the Morgan Library - " _Two_ libraries on one date?" Alice had asked. "You're good at this, Prichard."

Andrew had suggested _afternoon tea_ , of all things, "because we have some time to kill," and they'd lingered in the lobby restaurant until the museum staff started making closing announcements.

"Don't we have to leave?" Alice asked.

Andrew grinned. "Nope. This is part of your Christmas present. Ready?"

Alice nodded, and almost before she realized what was happening, a docent was whisking them away for a private tour of Pierpont Morgan's personal library - including the original manuscript of _A Christmas Carol._ Alice was too stunned and awestruck to even speak for most of the time, though she rallied to ask a few very specific questions that Andrew had barely understood.

She was still lost for words as they returned to the lobby. "You . . . that . . . how did you . . ."

Andrew grinned. "I thought you might like that."

"No, seriously," Alice said. "A private tour?"

"Honestly, it's part of the museum's corporate sponsorship deal," Andrew explained. "They get a certain number of private tours per year, so I asked Dad if I could use one this year."

"So you planned this . . . before."

"Yeah. Your Christmas present. This is why I asked you to stay a few extra days."

"You're amazing." Alice kissed him until the museum guard politely cleared his throat.

"We should probably get out of here and let them close," Andrew said. "But on the way out, your other Christmas present is at the desk."

Alice waited to open it until they got outside. "Feels like a book . . . a big book . . . Oh!" she exclaimed. "Is this . . . ?"

"Yep, a facsimile of the _Christmas Carol_ manuscript you just saw."

"I didn't even know they _sold_ these."

"Hey, I can do okay with research on my own occasionally," Andrew said.

"Very impressive," Alice agreed. "Remind me to reward you for that later."

 

"This is the third night in a row I've fallen asleep with you," Alice marveled later as she pulled the blankets snug around them. "Is this what you meant by that whole 'normal' thing?

Andrew kissed her shoulder. "Yeah, pretty much. Except you're leaving tomorrow."

"Two weeks until school starts."

"I don't want to not see you for two weeks," he pouted.

"Well. Are you terribly busy here for that whole time?"

"I . . . guess not. Was going to see a bunch of movies while I'm here in the civilized world of indie theaters. Why, do you have a suggestion?"

"Come to Connecticut for a few days." Alice didn't know why she was suddenly nervous about suggesting this, after everything else they'd said and done, but somehow she was. "I mean, if you want. It's pretty boring, but . . ."

"You're going to be there. Not boring."

"You want to come?"

"You sound so surprised. Of course I do. If you want me to . . ."

"Of course." She kissed him. "But seriously. Boring."

Andrew ran a hand down her side suggestively. "I'm sure we could figure out something to keep us occupied."

"Uh. Yeah. About that. My parents will probably make you stay in the guest room."

"That's fine."

"Really?"

"Alice. I've been following you around with a camera for years. Half the time I'm just watching you read. It's not like I'm just in this for the sex."

"Okay."

His fingers danced across her hip and onto her belly as they inched under the waistband of her flannel pajama pants. "Not that that's not a very welcome addition to the situation."

"Mmm." She rolled toward him, trapping his hand between her legs. "Very welcome."

 

 


	7. Epilogue: Still Goodbying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Thanks for reading!

**Epilogue**

**Still Goodbying**

 

_Oh! The fire is slowly dying_   
_And my dear we're still goodbying_   
_But as long as you love me so_   
_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_

 

Alice had never almost missed a train in her life, but then, Andrew had never been standing on the platform kissing her before, either.

"I _really_ have to go," she said as the final boarding call blared.

"Or you could miss your train and stay," he said, arms around her tight. "It's a perfectly viable suggestion."

"I don't think my parents would be amused. And I don't have enough clothes for another day."

"Yeah, it's a pity there's nowhere to get new clothes in New York."

Alice smiled and kissed him. "I'll see you _in a week_. Now you have to let go."

"Fine," Andrew grumbled, kissing her quickly before she stepped away toward the closing train doors. "Have a safe trip. Love you."

Alice was stepping onto the train before his words registered; when she turned to look back at him, he just shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile. She sat down in the first available seat and pulled her phone out of her coat pocket. Whatever. She was always better in writing anyway. A million possibilities ran through Alice's mind, but she wanted to respond before Andrew had a chance to say anything else, to feel like he had to backtrack, so in the end she went with the simplest, truest text she could.

_Love you too._


End file.
